In Bygone Days
by Servant of Anubis
Summary: Everyone dictates their past once in their life, right? I suppose now it's my turn.
1. In the Beginning

New story! Finally, something decent. Since Yu-Gi-Ou is one of my all-time favorite manga/anime series, I'm really critical of what I write for it. So I have a dozen half-written fanfics for it floating around, but I haven't deemed them good enough to post. But this one, I think this one will do. If you haven't noticed, one of my favorite things to do is fill in the background; I like writing about people's past, how they got to where they are now. Basically, character development. Some characters, like this one, give me little to go on, but a lot of freedom when writing. Others, like Kaiba, give me the basics, and I figure out the rest. Anyways, enough chatter. Here is the first chapter of a new fanfic, In Bygone Days.

---

I'm not entirely sure why I'm bothering to relate this, this recollection of my time here. You trapped me, I suppose, in our conversation, our discussion of that famous quote of looking into an enemy's past and finding enough miseries to banish all hate.

I had remarked, "Everyone has a story."

You had paused and looked at me thoughtfully. "What's your story?"

This stopped me. It seemed a strange concept, that I had a story, even though I just told you that everyone did. I guess I just don't hold myself to the same level as other people. I'm separate, somehow.

And the very idea of this, telling a story which is really my life, it makes you wonder. Perhaps our lives are merely entertainment for others. Don't waste your breath contradicting; I know that's not what you meant. Still, I wonder.

I've never done anything like this, you know, revealing the private details of my existence. It seems so personally intimate, a bond between the storyteller and audience. I apologize if I stumble or lose myself.

No, I'm not stalling. My thoughts are disorganized now that I've forced out memories that before were tightly bound. They're overwhelming, the sheer bulk of memories that linger still.

Well, let's find a place to begin.

--

Men-nefer. Captial of Kemet, not Egypt, it was never 'Egypt' in my day. Kemet, the Black Land, fertile and lush next to the Red Land, the near endless desert surrounding us, holding untold dangers even as she guarded our borders. Men-nefer in shining white limestone, a sparkling city by the River, the Nile you call it, life-giver to us all, without which we wouldn't survive.

I was born there, and grew up there. From the beginning I had no one. My mother died when I was too young to remember her; an illness took her, make her bones ache and her skin bruise and she wasted away. My father died in the still on-going great war, died for his country, for our Pharaoh, as we all would, when I was three. I don't remember him. I was never adopted, but I was cared for by the High Priest Akunadin. He was old even then, fifty years, with grey-white hair, deeply devout and loyal to his lord. He was my mentor; he took me as his apprentice, deciding early on that I was to be a priest. I can't say that I loved him, cared for and about him, certainly, but love…?

I walked, bare-footed, bare-chested, through the halls of painted limestone, on floors of whitest marble, in the palace of the Pharaoh, a living god on earth, where Akunadin lived as well, and so me. I wore the finest linen on my child's frame, an amulet to protect me from harm, gold bands about my arms and a heavy collar resting against my breast, gold, turquoise, carnelian, and lapis lazuli, a deep River-blue flecked with gold that matched my eyes. Past guttering torches affixed to the wall I stepped softly to Akunadin's chambers, slipping silently by a dozing guard and into his rooms.

He was reading, lips moving as he quietly murmured the words; so intent on his text that he didn't notice my entrance. I hovered near the doors, uncertain of what to do now that I had arrived. He had vanished unexpectedly on a trip; some say he went to help stop the war. Now that he was back, in my child's mind I wanted to make sure that he was okay, that the war had left him untouched. From my place I observed him; the same linen shift that reached his ankles, the hood drawn up around his mid-length grey hair and beard, eyes shaded as he read, the same gnarled, wrinkled hands that possessed a surprising strength for someone of his age. All familiar things. But I still wasn't satisfied. I emerged from the shadowy doorstep and went to him, greeting him aloud.

His head snapped up, surprise written on his features. I stopped, alarmed by his reaction.

"Seth!"

Then he grimaced, hands flying to his ears; he stumbled to his feet, nearly tripping over the stool, and backed away, pained, until he reached the far wall. Even then, he dug his heels in as if he willed himself to pass through.

I was paralyzed with confusion. "Sir?" I took a halting step forward.

"No!" he shouted. I froze. "Don't-! Stay there. Stay…" He sunk to his knees, gripping his head as if it would burst.

My body quivered in indecision. Go to him? Get help? But I couldn't get help, I couldn't move, he told me to stay and I was, if anything, an obedient child.

"Help!" I shouted, held to the spot by the sheer force of his words. Akunadin flinched at my cry.

The drowsy guard scrambled into the room a moment later, quickly followed by three others. Then all was confusion; Akunadin was surrounded with concern, I was swept up in powerful arms and almost carried off. I squirmed suddenly, was dropped, and I ran to Akunadin, wriggling in between the crowding people.

"Seth!"

I gaped at him, amazed and frightened. His one good eye gazed back, pained, apologetic. Gold glittered in place of the other.

I was scooped up again and hauled back to my room.

The Items had been made, forged in the fires of hate and fear and desperation, those cursed blessings, saving Kemet from the wars only to bring her to the brink of destruction a few years later. Akunadin received his Item, all the high priests did, from the Pharaoh himself, the Eye that stole his sight even as it granted him a better sight into the heart. It took him time to master its powers; it pained him at first, the influx of voices and sounds. But I didn't know this, not as a child. I only knew that my lessons became harder, as Akunadin seemed to know what I was thinking.

I learned to think nothing; I kept my thoughts as blank as my face. Had my future not been destined for priesthood, the military would have fit my stoic nature.

I can only guess what my life would have been like, had the Prince not been born.

I was four. The palace, the city, the whole country was ablaze with the news; the prince was born. Yet the celebrations were subdued. After all, His Majesty had been blessed with children before, and all had been lost. And wasn't this child born early, small and frail, taking his mother's life in the process? Surely, the Prince wasn't long for this world.

Those were the whispers, from servants, from guards, no doubt most of the city. I didn't quite understand; I was still too young. But when the time came I went to go see him with Akunadin anyways.

Well, they certainly were right about one thing: the Prince was tiny, impish even. While His Majesty and Akunadin spoke by the balcony, I gazed down at the Prince impassively. He lay in his cradle, a hand tangled in wild short tricolored, the other clutching and pulling at the white linen. He had a round smooth little face; I imagined he'd be very handsome when he grew up. He ignored me completely, unlike other children I had seen, and made not a sound. His attention seemed to be fixed elsewhere, at nothing I could see. I hmmed and turned to leave, and the Prince's eyes snapped over and locked with mine.

They were a starling red, blood red I instinctively knew. They were bright and sharp and they pierced my very soul, saw right through me. They rooted me to the spot and stole my breath.

A chill brushed my mind, unintelligible whisperings heard on the borders of consciousness, and I shuddered; suddenly I could see the child wreathed in Shadows. They clothed him in purple and darkness, clung to him, worshipped him. A small tendril drifted out toward my hand that rested on the edge of the cradle, and I knew I should pull back, knew that Shadows were dangerous, but his eyes still held me and I couldn't move.

The Shadows gently brushed against my bare skin.

An icy cold crashed over me and stripped the warmth from my body even as my soul flared bright and defiant. Pain raced through my veins and clouded my mind as the Shadows gleefully enjoyed each emotion, each memory contained within my heart. I was dying, the Shadows were killing me! Yet even as I realized this horror I was enthralled. What power!

_Stren__gth and honor, pride and courage and__ pain and suffering._ Murmured words that sounded far away. _This one, we'll keep._

And suddenly I was free. The child looked away, disinterested, Shadows recoiling and retreating back to smother the boy in undisguised adoration.

I collapsed to the ground, shaking, sobbed, gasping for breath, arms wrapped tight around deadly cool skin that wouldn't warm, eyes that saw unseeing, unfocused.

"Ah, my Prince, my Prince," I cried, rocking back and forth. "My Prince, my lord, my master." I knew, I knew. This was my lord, my Prince. I would never stray from his side, never let anything harm him. I would give my life for him, I knew! He who would command legions! He who would lead Kemet to shining glory! My Prince, my beautiful, dark prince of Shadows.

I never cried, ever, even when whipped; His Majesty and Akunadin were so stunned that at first they didn't move. Then Akunadin was at my side, trying to pull me away, trying to see if I was hurt, trying to get an answer from me; good gods, Seth, what's wrong? Are you alright? You're as cold as death! He tried to pull me away, to get me to face him, but I didn't want to leave the prince's side. I screamed and kicked and fought until a sharp blow to the head made my vision swim and my moments slow. I was picked up and carried away, stunned and quiet and trembling, and I watched the prince as we left.

He watched back from his new place in His Majesty's arms, completely unfazed by the events, and just before we disappeared through the doors, he smiled.

I smiled back.

I spent the next week reeling in and out of consciousness, weak and near death, with a high fever and a delirium that frightened even Akunadin. Call it an epiphany, call it a bout of insanity, but I was forever changed. The Prince, Pharaoh-to-be, would be, to me, truly a living god.

---

Well, what do you think? A tad shorter than my usual chapter length, but not too bad. Review and let me hear your opinions, readers!


	2. Companion

Next chapter. The third is mostly done, but I don't know when I'll get it posted.

---

Time passed. The world grew older with me, changed with me. By my tenth year the great war was done, already fading into distant memory, and Kemet prospered. My studies continued at their relentless pace, and as I was older I learned the harsh bite of a whip if I floundered too badly. My hunger for knowledge was insatiable; I learned about everything. I studied the gods and their ways, preparation for my future; I knew the names of the stars and their places in the heavens, the all-important Sopdet, the Star of Isis, Sothis, Sirius, all names you might know her by, whose yearly appearance marked the beginning of the Inundation and wild New Year's festivals. I learned of Kemet and the lands beyond her great bounds: Punt, Libya, Lebanon, Syria, Meore the old capital of Kush, their languages and people. Akunadin was an advisor to His Majesty, so politics inevitably found their way into my lessons as well.

And I learned magic. Spells, incantations, prayers, evocations, that could command, curse, cure, harm, heal. It was, still is, very much connected to the gods. After all, Aset is the mistress of all magic- it was she who taught her ways to her foster son, Yinepu, her son, Heru, to us, her children. But my studies were all merely a foundation for the most powerful act of will possible: summoning.

When I didn't have lessons and wasn't with the Prince, I was at the Shrine, pouring over the inscriptions there. (Akunadin oversaw the Shrine, so I was one of the few who could come and go at my leisure.) Personal power, I knew, limited one to what he could do, but the rest was knowledge. It was dangerous to try and summon something you couldn't control, but even more dangerous to summon something you didn't understand. May the gods look to your soul if you ever tangled with the Shadows unprepared. So even though I was too young to summon still, by the age of eight I knew every monster enshrined there, names, strengths, abilities, how to summon them. I would be well prepared when the time came. It was an amazing feat, one I was quite proud of, especially since the Prince claimed most of my free time.

He hadn't changed much (neither had I for that matter; I just got taller and, some would say, colder.) The Prince was still a tiny thing at two, four, and now six years, a slight, lithe creature. His hair, even now miraculously tricolored, spiked up oddly in wild disheveled peaks, with light bangs falling around his face. He eyes were still a gleaming red and had, if anything, sharpened over the years, possessing an intelligence and indifference that baffled most and frightened the rest. However, they would occasionally light up with mischief.

Like when the Prince would play. A servant had found me, working diligently on the invocations I was copying, and told me that His Highness required my presence. I dropped what I was doing and went to him at once.

He was in the currently empty throne room, his small form curled up on his father's seat, wholly immersed in his toys, Shadows coiled around him lovingly. I approached, bowed low and announced myself, waiting to be recognized. A few moments passed and I risked a glance up. The Prince was seated properly, still as stone, regal and commanding, eyes fixed only on me. A slight chill ran through me. He would be a good leader. I straightened up and came forward.

Immediately he hopped off the throne and walked away; I followed without question.

People bowed to the Prince, giving us a wide berth as we passed by. Even if they couldn't see the Shadows that eternally cloaked their prince, they could certainly feel the chill if they strayed too close. The Prince ignored all of them and brought me to his rooms, where a sharp glance from me sent the servant girl scrambling out of sight.

His Highness went directly to a Senet board and looked at me expectantly.

Ah, so that was it. I smiled at him and came over; we started the game.

--

A dozen or so turns later I had a narrow lead with all my pieces on the board while the Prince only had three. One piece was on a safe square ahead of the others, which were tangled up with the Prince's pieces and currently immobile; a six would get it off the board. It was a bit of a long stretch, but it had happened before.

I picked up the four cedar throwing sticks, long half cylinders, and tossed them to the floor. All rounded sides up would be my six and the first piece off; but instead one landed flat side down. A one. Which moved my piece onto the only dangerous square on the entire board. I hid my disappointment, and shifted my piece to the correct square, only to find one of the Prince's pieces already there.

I shot a quick look at His Highness. He gazed back impassively, but his eyes sparkled with laughter, a faint smile curving his lips. I sighed in defeat and moved my piece to the beginning, then finished my turn.

A few turns later I was losing. His Highness was outright smirking now as he shunted my pieces back, skipped over them, and generally prevented me from executing a strategy. All I could do was play my best. I knew I was going to lose, like usual; the Prince hadn't lost a game yet. I knew I wasn't stupid, but I had to wonder why I constantly lost to a six year old.

The Shadows shifted suddenly, moving eagerly around the Prince as he started a turn. My eyes roved over the board quickly and sure enough, unless he rolled poorly the game was his. I felt a glimmer of hope despite myself; maybe he would roll poorly.

Of course not, he rolled a four, a one, another one, and then he had only one piece left on the board. Tossing the sticks gracefully, he smiled at the roll and took his last piece, tapping off the last few squares. One, two, three, four, five, and last tap took him off the board and won the game.

The instant his piece touched the floor the Shadows lashed out at me. They ripped through me with all the strength of a sandstorm and then some, tearing at my soul. I braced myself against the biting cold and slicing Shadows as best I could, clenching my teeth and fists, eyes shut tight.

Then it passed. I exhaled loudly, unaware that I had been holding my breath; my hands pressed against the floor to support me. Breathing heavily, I looked at the Prince. He didn't look at me, fiddling with the pieces absentmindedly, a touch of sadness on his face.

I hung my head and dropped my gaze back to the floor. He's probably disappointed that the game is over. I might have been his personal companion, but that didn't spare me from his punishment. No one knew if he did it intentionally or if the Shadows acted on their own, but any person who lost to His Highness was punished. I wasn't complaining though. For whatever reason, I was the only person who could play with, against, the Prince, lose, and live.

Needless to say, I was the Prince's only companion.

Having somewhat regained my composure, I sat up slowly, my body aching all over. His Highness saw this and got up; I knew I was to follow. He led the way through the palace, I his faithful shadow. Servants and nobles alike stepped out of his way and bowed deeply; the Prince didn't acknowledge them. Except one.

Passing through an open courtyard, he sat himself down by a pool and we built small rafts out of reeds and decorated them with lotus blossoms and colored pebbles. Naturally, even though it wasn't a declared game, the Prince's raft sailed across the pool faster than mine.

A young man entered the courtyard on his way to the palace and the Prince stopped what he was doing, watching him. His eyes flashed from the man to me and back again, and I got up and went over.

"Apprentice," I called out, stepping onto the pathway in front of him.

He stopped and greeted me with a small bow and I noticed that he wasn't wearing the robes of an apprentice anymore, but the robes of a priest, albeit a low ranking one. He must have passed his initiation.

"His Highness requires your presence," I told him plainly, not bothering with pleasantries.

He shot a fleeting look at the palace, concern crossing his face. "Oh, of course." I led him back to the Prince who waited patiently by the pool. He joined us in our boat-building, deftly crafting a miniature barque for the Prince; I watched as the he smiled at the simple gift, and felt anger bubble within me.

Mahaado called over a serving maid and procured a couple eggs, which he gave to the Prince to look over. Prince Atem handed them back quickly, uninterested; they were just plain eggs. Mahaado took them back and cupped one gently in his hand. He blew on it, smiled, and cracked it open; a small white bird, fully formed, flew off from the broken shell. Prince Atem's eyes widened in amusement and curiosity, and mine narrowed in suspicion. How?

His Highness took an egg, repeated the motions, and cracked a raw egg on the ground. He stared at it, then took another egg and thrust it into Mahaado's hands, wordlessly demanding that he do it again. He did, and I couldn't figure it out.

Prince Atem, who was sitting between us, turned to face Mahaado fully, declaring at once my unimportance. Slighted, I watched at Mahaado produced another bird and bloomed several wilted lotus blossoms.

"I'm sorry, You Highness; I know no more," Mahaado apologized, hands held aloft. "I will learn more if you desire."

The Prince gave a quick nod and returned to his boat.

"So, Mahaado," I began, dropping his title. "You initiation went well? Some people can't take it, so I heard."

"Yes, it went well enough. Anpu deemed me worthy of his service. I thank you for your concern," he said, giving no hint whether he noticed the malicious tinge to my voice. What a political answer.

"You came all the way from Behdet to become a priest here, right? Your family owns a farm there?" I pressed. I needed to differentiate between us. I needed to know that I had something over this man, the only other person to whom the Prince spared any attention.

"Yes, His Majesty found me when he visited Behdet a few years ago. He requested that I return to the capital to begin studies. My parents were happy to fulfill His Majesty's wishes." Mahaado's eyes slid toward the water as he spoke, a homesick sheen creeping in.

But there it was. His Majesty has specifically requested Mahaado become a priest, this unassuming, awkward young man, barely an adult! And here I was, parentless, living in the palace and consorting with royalty, a chosen favorite, only through the good graces of Akunadin, becoming a priest as he instructs.

Envy, overshadowed by a smoldering desire to succeed, to prove myself, burned brightly within me.

Prince Atem returned his attention to my, and Mahaado excused himself, heading to the palace quickly, no doubt late for his engagement thanks to the Prince's request. I followed his departure with smug eyes, and then followed Atem where he willed.

---

What would help me best at this point in the story would be input from my readers. Please review. They brighten my days. Oh, and as a side note, I placed the age difference between Seth and Atem at four years. Here are some footnotes that, if you choose to skip over, don't really detract from the story, but they do add some interesting cultural notes.

Kush: the kingdom of Nubia that is now in modern day Sudan; Meroe was it's capital, and at the time of this fanfic, Kush had been conquered by Kemet within the last rule. In this fanfic, it was Atem's father, even though it was Pharaoh Tuthmosis III who actually took over Kush in real life. (He was called the Napoleon of Egypt because of his military skills and his shortness.) And the other countries listed were actual ancient countries that Egypt dealt with.

Sopdet: what the Egyptians called Sirius; Seth explained the rest

Aset: What the Egyptians called Isis; Heru is Horus, and Yinepu is Anubis. Technically, we have no way of knowing if these are 100% accurate because the Egyptians didn't write out vowels. But this is what Egyptologists think is right.

Senet: a very popular Egyptian board game in which the point was to get your six pieces onto the board, through it, and off again before the other player. Later in Egypt's history it became associated with religion, coming to represent the journey the deceased took on their way to the Field of Reeds, the Egyptian version of heaven, sort of.


	3. Discontent

Next chapter. I think this is my least favorite chapter so far, but I'm really looking forward to the next chapter.

---

I was fast leaving my childhood. At the age of fourteen, I was a full apprentice in the Temple Complex of Ra in the capital and was approaching priesthood. Within the next year I imagined. My life revolved around the temple and the palace and I traveled between the two several times a day. My studies became more specific; having learned all the basics, the focus switched to religion and politics. After all, besides Pharaoh and his family, the other important members of the government were mainly priests. In the past, there had been turmoil between the Royal Family and the priesthood, a struggle for power, but there were no such tensions now and chances were high that I would become an advisor to His Majesty as well. 

Miraculously Prince Atem and I studied politics at the same time with the same tutor, Neret. A young eunuch, his voice having the timber of a child's but carrying the authority of an adult's, Neret had been given many honors by His Majesty for his tireless work as chief scribe and administrator. Now he played his part by teaching the next generation, a task I'm certain he hated. The prince and I sat on our low stools at small writing desks and listened as he droned on about the subdued kingdom of Kush that was currently part of the Kemet Empire. I was fairly convinced that sleep was in the near future when a folded piece of papyrus landed on my notes.

I blinked. You've got to be joking. I glanced at Atem, who watched the tutor with a blank gaze and seemed completely out of touch with his surroundings. Only the shifting tendrils of Shadows betrayed his alertness.

I unfolded the scrap of papyrus and read the note, the prince's hieratic scrawl much more illegible than his elegant hieroglyphics. 

'_Care to race after?_'

I stared at it for a moment, the scribbled a neat reply. It landed squarely on Atem's desk and he read it quickly. His shoulders slumped slightly, imperceptible to anyone who didn't know him. The Shadows moved sluggishly, radiating his disappointment.

The note landed back on my desk with the response.

'_I understand. After Akunadin's lesson_?'

I nodded without thinking.

"Do you have something you'd like to add, Seth?" Neret asked, eyes narrowed.

I scrambled for an idea. "If Kush has been subjugated by Kemet and has begun to absorb parts of our culture, then does the Kushite culture have enough value to warrant its continual study?" A subtle way of complaining that our study material was boring.

"Respecting other cultures is a good way to extend feelings of goodwill to other diplomats and dignitaries," Neret began. I wasn't interested in the answer, since it was just a 'so I don't get scolded' question, but that statement grabbed my attention.

"Wait, so we study this only to better flatter others?" The idea repulsed me. "Kemet is the greatest empire the world has ever seen! We should not have to conform to anyone's ways."

Neret looked like he wanted to say something; he glanced over toward the prince, who still looked as if he wasn't paying the foggiest attention to the lesson. Neret closed his mouth, then said quietly, "So one would think."

He cleared his throat and dismissed class. I bid the prince farewell, bowing deeply, and then went to Akunadin's chambers.

--

"First five lines of Chapter XXIV," Akunadin commanded, staring at the wall, back towards me.

I took a deep breath, eyes closed, hands clasped behind my back in proper form, and began reciting.

"'I am Atum-Khepri who came into being of himself upon the lap of his mother Nut, who gave jackals to those who are in the Primordial Waters and hunting-dogs to those who are in the tribunal. I have collected this magic in every place where it was, from the possession of anyone who possessed it, more speedily than a hound, more swiftly than a shadow.'"

Akunadin nodded at my correct response. "Hymn to Ra When He Rises in the East."

Easy. I recited the hymn with no hesitation. My mind wandered; I was bored. My lessons had bored me since I was a child. It wasn't that I wasn't interested, it just wasn't enough. Akunadin tried, truly tried to make my studies more challenging but it didn't work very well.

"First ten lines of The Doomed Prince."

I grit my teeth. The Doomed Prince had nothing to do with the gods! It was a child's tale, one I hadn't heard since I was five at the most.

"You hesitate?" Akunadin tilted his head slightly. 

Of course I hesitate. "I do not recall," I stated, my voice neutral.

"Very well." Akunadin turned and watched as I walked over and stood next to him, placing my hands on the wall, shoulder level, palm flat. I waited, knowing that this is what happened when I thought cocky things without building a decent mental barrier first.

I heard the whip slice through the air and I didn't flinch as it bit deep into my back, I didn't cry out. I was strong, no weakness showed. I took four more lashes the same way. I felt a trickle of blood dribble down my back, where it soaked into the linen at my waist. The floor beneath my feet had a permanent stain from harsher punishments.

The blows stopped. I walked back to my place, head held high, too proud to show the pain that burned where the lashes fell, too proud to argue the stupidity of his last command. Besides, arguing would get me more lashes, and they only served to strengthen my resolve to do better.

The lesson continued.

--

Announced, I came forward, bowing stiffly, my back aching. Atem sat on the balcony rail of his room, Shadow-clothed, staring at the stars. He showed no knowledge of my presence.

_You can't race._

I repressed a shudder as the Shadows gently brushed my mind, sending a shock of_sadness regret concern disappointment_ coursing through me. Even though the prince was ten, he still communicated through the Shadows, to the Shadows even; he didn't speak. Only those who had a connection to the Shadows could hear him; if someone wasn't used to or adapted to the Shadows, the contact could kill them. So even Atem's Shadow-speak was rare.

"My deepest apologies, Your Highness," I said, bowing my head.

The Shadows rippled as if a breeze blew; Atem didn't like the formalities. He shifted, his expression wounded, dropping his gaze to the ground below. He tucked his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them (not for the first time I wondered how he didn't fall).

Against better judgment I stepped up to him. The Shadows reached out automatically and emotions washed over me, _sadness confusion restless discontent questioning unease._ I almost drew back, but something held me there.

A quiet noise escaped the prince, soft and trapped, and slowly I raised my arms, holding them out.

_Hesitant confusion motive nausea questioning comfort_

Atem leaned into my arms, eyes sliding shut as he allowed me to simply hold him. The emotions swirled through my mind faster than I could recognize them; I tried to focus only on the small form in my arms. Physical contact was somewhat new to me, but it must be almost completely foreign to the prince. It was forbidden to touch a member of the Royal Family without their express permission, and Atem didn't like to be touched.

Atem made a humming noise as the emotions slowed down, spinning slowly through our minds _content peace calm __**gratitude**_.

A small smile curved my lips. My prince. I would never leave you.

--

"I am not going," I stated firmly.

Akunadin had called me to his chambers and we discussed my apprenticeship, how I would soon be able to undergo my initiation and take my place among the priests. And then he told me that he had arranged for the remainder of my apprenticeship to be served at Inun, Ra's most sacred temple, in Upper Kemet, several days travel from Men-nefer by boat.

"Seth, Inun is one of Kemet's most sacred places, where Ra himself came forth from the Primordial Waters. To have the high priest there specifically offer you apprenticeship-"

"I understand your reasoning, sir," I said, trying to remain calm. "But I'm not going to Inun. There is nothing wrong with my studies here at the capital."

Akunadin stood and came around his writing desk to stand in front of me. "I don't think you understand," he said slowly, annoyance obvious. "This is not up for discussion."

I met his gaze evenly; we were about the same height now. "I agree completely, sir," I replied lightly, my self-control slipping for a moment. "I am not going to Inun."

WHACK

My head snapped to the side; I clenched my teeth and held my tongue. Calm down, no thoughts, no emotions, build the wall and keep him out.

"Ungrateful," Akunadin spat. "You will go to Inun and finish your apprenticeship there."

"I will remain in the capital with His Highness," I whispered.

"Seth! We are talking about your future! You are not his personal slave!" the high priest shouted, exasperated. "You need to look past your devotion to him and start thinking about your own place in this world! Studying at Inun will provide you with the opportunity to grow in strength without having to stand in the shadow of the prince."

"I don't stand in his shadows," I blurted out, defensive. 

"No?" Akunadin asked, giving me a look that told me to not to be stupid. "Do you ever get tired of losing, Seth?" He smirked at the flash of outrage that seared through my mind. "I know all about that, know that you can best anyone at any game except the prince. Do you ever get tired of losing to a ten year old, Seth? Do you ever get tired of being second best?"

I stayed silent, my spirit burning angrily at the accusations. Akunadin continued.

"What do you think will happen once that boy can summon? Seeing his connection to the Shadows I'm surprised he isn't summoning already. But really, Seth, you know what used to happen to those who lost to him. What do you think will happen when he summons? You are his favorite, after all; who do you think he'll want to challenge?"

Akunadin gave me a long hard look as it dawned on me. I could clearly remember what happened when I lost to Atem; it wasn't something one ever forgot. Even though he had reigned in the Shadows somewhat, they still stirred hungrily when I lost. And that was with simple games! If I were to lose in a true Shadow Game… I shuddered at the thought, a chill racing down my spine. But, to leave my prince…

Akunadin waited patiently as I warred with myself, standing next to his desk where a map of Kemet was displayed, his hand resting on Inun. When I looked back to him with my answer, his face was blank, even though he must have already known.

"I will go to Inun."

A smile spread across his face. "You made a good decision, Seth." He led me toward the door, explaining that he would finalize the details within the week. Then he shut the door and I was alone in the echoing hall.

Was it treason? I wondered as I slowly made my way back to my rooms. I choose myself over the prince. But I had too; it could cost me my life otherwise, my soul. Besides, solitary creature that he is, Atem would be fine while I was gone. He could always spend time with Mahaado I thought suddenly, viciously. My eyes narrowed as the now familiar feeling of envy flared at the idea. I'd come back stronger than him, that was certain. That peasant priest wouldn't stand a chance.

A smug smile settled on my lips at the thought. Yes, perhaps studying at Inun would be good for me. And maybe, I'd beat Atem once. I had been the best before he came. And just because he was the prince didn't mean that he always had to be the best.

I surprised myself with these thoughts. It did sound vaguely treasonous. But I wasn't going to overthrow him or try to take the throne, so it wasn't actual treason. 

I readied myself for bed, lying on my stomach to avoid disturbing the lashes. I didn't know how I would tell Atem, but I found myself looking forward to the trip. I would get stronger. Mahaado wouldn't be a threat and maybe I'd defeat Atem once. No, not maybe. I would, at least once.

"I'm just… tired of losing," I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep.

--

And so Akunadin sowed the first seeds of discontent into my heart. I didn't know it at the time, but he was molding me to suit his purposes from the beginning. But I didn't notice until it was too late.

---

Ta-da! Ignore the fact that you can't really fold papyrus like I suggested.


	4. Apprentice

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I struggled with it a little, thus its slightly shorter length. I realized I made a major screw up: the city of pillars is spelled Iunu, not Inun. That's what I get for not double checking my spelling. Since I've already posted it as Inun, I won't change it now. That might confuse people.

--

I decided I disliked boats. Severely. I had heard other people would get sick on extended rides up the River, but I never thought I'd be one of them. To my credit, I hadn't thrown up yet, but the incessant nausea was making for a very foul mood. Sanding on the deck of _Bast's Glory_ in the early morning light, I gazed dully at the glimmering blue water as a light breeze, the breath of Ra as it was known, ruffled my hair. It was the last day of the trip to Inun and I was fast tiring of the vehicle's confining spaces. The boat was luxurious, well stocked with nice foods and elegant quarters, but compared to the spacious halls of the palace the barque was tiny. And I was eager to disembark.

I made my way to the captain standing at the prow. "Captain, how much longer until which reach Inun?"

"We should reach the holy city before noon, wind permitting, my lord," he replied. I nodded. The title had surprised me at first, but it made sense. I didn't hear a title at the palace because I was surrounded by so many others who were higher than me, but here, I was probably one of the most powerful people these simpler folk would ever meet.

I returned to the railings and leaned against them. The shimmering River was mesmerizing, gently lapping against the sides of the boat. The water was so calm, no hippos thrashing about and the crocodiles lazing peacefully on the bank, soaking up the warming sun. I hummed quietly, watching as small reeds floated downstream, parallel to our course. Not only was this boat confining, but it was boring. It just pulled away all attempts at work and gently plucked out thoughts, sending them drifting away like the reeds below…

Atem… He had looked completely unaffected when I had told him about going to Inun. As far as the world knew, he didn't care. But I saw it. I felt it. The Shadows had surged up as he dropped his eyes to the floor. They whirled tightly around their prince, a sight visible to others only as a soft breeze that tugged at his golden bangs. When Atem looked back to me, his eyes were blank, carefully concealing any emotion he might be feeling. But the Shadows gave him away. As Atem nodded, they rushed forward, enveloping me in cold, crushing darkness.

_**Ours**__ chosen fleeing not abandonment questioning loss!_

Then the Shadows retreated suddenly, Atem blinking as if startled, drawing a closed fist to his chest, a wisp of Shadows clenched there tightly. A hardened look shone in his eyes for a heartbeat, then they slipped back to an emotionless stare.

"Atem," I had whispered breathlessly. My hand clutched my chest; my heart ached. I almost stayed, almost called everything off right there, but Akunadin had whisked me away to the docks where the boat waited. He had kept me unusually busy, I realized, in the days leading up to my departure. Extra lessons and late nights charting stars, to make sure I was ready. I really didn't get a chance to tell Atem until the last moment. He planned it that way, Akunadin; I realized this far too late. He feared, rightly so, that I would change my mind. So he didn't give me the time to reconsider.

My eyes narrowed, perfectly reflecting the blue of the River. That was certainly… manipulative of him. But it was definitely too late now. The chance to turn back had long passed.

"My lord."

I jumped slightly, the voice ripping me out of my half daze. The captain bowed respectfully. "Inun lies on the horizon."

I followed his pointed finger southward and saw nothing. Then I realized that he was pointing farther into the western desert. There I could see a smudge of white just higher than the surrounding sand. Not very impressive yet.

"I will go ready my things," I told him and retreated to my room.

--

Inun was a unique city even in my day. It wasn't situated on the River like most, but located a good five miles into the desert, accessible only by a canal that connected it to the life giving waters. As we sailed up to the docks, I was struck at just how large the city was. Not nearly as large as the capital, of course, but still impressive. I later learned that the city of Inun consisted of the priests' homes and craftsman, scribes and breweries, bakeries, hairdressers, weavers, wig makers, potters, everything needed to serve the temple complex. In fact, there was hardly a soul in Inun that did not serve the temple in some way.

I wish I could recount for you the brilliance of my first day there; words are inadequate. The sights and sounds and the wonder that seized my spirit when I first laid eyes on Ra's largest and most holy temple; I will not lie, the awesome sight struck me dumb for several seconds. Have you ever seen one of our temples? Oh, of course not, but pictures, certainly? Envision the grandest temple you've ever seen pictured, then restore the limestone to its original shining white, repaint the walls to replace the now faded colors, return the shattered and damaged statues to their former beauty, and you might construct an image somewhat like Inun's glory in those days. The scene would have stopped you dead in your tracks as well.

I was given a small room with plain white walls, a bed, stool, and a wooden chest that would serve as my table. But the conditions of the room didn't matter much as I would only be there for sleeping and little else. My studies were very focused. I joined other initiates in the relentless pursuit of knowledge, never seeming to put the slightest dent in the amount I needed to know. Many of the other students disliked me. Few of them were paupers, so there were egos aplenty to bruise, not that I haven't done that at the palace. I also began basic duties in the temple, assisting minor priests in their duties, listening and learning as much as I could. The subservience bothered me in the deep recesses of my soul, but I ignored it. If this is what it took, then I could humble myself for a time.

Months passed. I realized that Akunadin had been overhasty in suggesting that I would be initiated within the year. I was a brilliant student, advancing quickly, but it would be next year at least before I could take my first oaths, still very young for a priest, yet… Contemplating this in the late hours of the night, I felt a bitterness creep into my heart. The more I thought on the matter, the more I wondered if Akunadin had been outright lying to me. Was he trying to separate me from the Prince? No, not 

separate, I quickly banished the thought, refusing to accept betrayal as a possibility; he just wanted me to concentrate fully on my studies. As soon as I was finished here, I would return to the Capital.

How I fed my soul with those lies then.

"Seth?"

I rose and turned away from the large statue, where I had just laid a bundle of lotus flowers at Ra's feet. Hem Netjer Menmet-Ra stood there, alone. I raised my arms in dua, greeting him. How long was he behind me?

"Walk with me," he said, gesturing to the expanse of the temple complex behind him. I nodded, unsure of what to think, and walked slightly after him as he led the way.

"What do you think of Inun?" he asked as we wandered through the temple gardens.

"A whole city dedicated to the gods; I never imagined that the secular could be so intertwined, yet still separate," I answered truthfully, wondering the purpose of this.

"How do your studies go?" We strolled towards the pillared halls.

"I hope they go well enough. I never seem to run out of things to study," I replied, glancing up at the waving banner over the pylon entrance that marked the buildings of the gods.

We were silent as we purified ourselves in one of the temple's many sacred pools, representative of the Primordial Waters. No priest, no matter their rank, could enter a temple impure. We passed into the hall of pillars, darkness cloaking the wall's paintings from prying eyes. I could dimly make out the scene of Ra standing on the Primordial Mound before he created the rest of Kemet.

Menmet-Ra stood quietly beside me. "Why have you come to Inun, Seth?" he asked softly. The huge hall caught his voice and echoed back to him faintly.

"What?" I didn't understand. "To finish my training as an apprentice so I will be fully ordained." Wasn't that obvious?

"You have a rather methodical way of studying," he continued.

Now I was truly perplexed. What did that have to do with anything? "I find I learn best that way," I told him.

He made a humming noise. "You know the morning hymn to Ra?"

Of course. I had learned it long before coming to Inun, and you can't forget something you sing every morning. "Yes, sir."

He nodded, which I realized was the request to recite it. I did so.

"You know it," he said when I was finished. "But you do not feel it."

"Sir?"

He smiled gently and sang the hymn, the melody bouncing from the walls and filling the entire chamber with sound. The music sounded so much more… moving. When the song faded away I found myself staring plainly at him, mouth agape.

"Seth, I will ask plainly: have the gods ever spoken to you?"

His question ripped me from my stupor. "I serve the gods as they desire; it is enough," I responded, perhaps too quickly, defensively. I had heard other apprentices speaking of such occurrences, the love, the power; I never had such an experience. A part of me burned to hear them talk of it, that part wished to hear them too.

He smiled a knowing smile. It annoyed me. "Yes, you serve them. And when they speak to you, then you shall love them."

He bid me a good day and turned to leave. I watched him go; he disappeared into the deep shadows of the hall.

"And when will that be?" I called after him impulsively. "They are silent; have I displeased them?" I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Such doubt would never get me anywhere!

"Seth, when you are ready they will tell you." His voice drifted out of the darkness, as if from a god himself. He left me with that thought.

--

A year past. Then another. I learned and grew in strength, in power. I went through the motions of worship with no word from the gods; while others confided in each other about their profound experiences, I felt nothing. Some of them even went on to pass their initiation. I was one of the oldest apprentices, I could not move forward. There was never an end to learning, but I seemed unable to make the transition that would recommend me for initiation. I lived devoutly, I breathed the gods' words. And each night I fell to sleep only after hours of tormented thought. What was I doing wrong? How could I explain my failure to Akunadin? I wrote him false letters, told him half truths about the amount there was to learn and how there was still more before I could become a true priest. I worried that perhaps the gods might never see me, that I would never become a priest.

And then Hem Netjer Menmet-Ra found my again during my prayers.

"You will initiated on the last day of the month."

I was pleased and worried at this news. My ears were still deaf to the gods, despite my wishes to the contrary. The gods would either speak to me during my initiation, or I would fail. There was no other choice. My apprehension grew as the day approached.

That morning I rose and prayed, preparing myself for my trial.

--

I don't normally do cliff-hangers, but what the hell. It might make you come back. Cultural notes:

dua- an Egyptian greeting where a person holds their arms out, bent upwards at the elbow, palms facing outwards; information is shaky as to whether this was a common greeting, or one reserved for gods and very important people. Dua literally means 'praise'.

Hem Netjer- literally 'servant of the gods', this is a high priest, the one in charge of the temple

Reviews? Pretty Please?


	5. Knowing

Next chapter. I actually finished this about.. three weeks ago, but college made me forget. So here it is. I have the next chapter planned out, I just need to write it.

--

I spoke to no one that morning, and no one spoke to me. It was forbidden to communicate with an initiate on the day of their trial, since all my thoughts needed to be turned to the gods and the task at hand, with no distractions from any outside influence. Instead of following the other apprentices to the usual place of eating, I traveled to the main hall and knelt before a statue of Ra, asking for his blessings and hoping to hear his voice. Then I offered a prayer to Wesir, who would help determine my success or failure in the initiation. My failure meant I would soon be meeting him directly.

My mind latched onto these thoughts and consumed them; my feet carried me to the preparation room of their own accord. I nodded briefly to the four silent attendants. They didn't say a word to me, for one does not speak with the Dead, which is how they saw me, dead to my old life, a person who did not yet know the gods.

I stripped out of my simple robe and allowed them to rub oil into my skin, then tie a loincloth in place. They wrapped padded linen around elbows, heels, any place that would press against the floor when lying down, and then slipped a fine linen robe over my head, tying a pleated apron around my waist. A collar of gold threaded linen went around my neck and soft reed sandals were placed on my feet. I almost lost balance at that; a week of fasting had made me light-headed, and I was having a hard time ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach. Then my face was painted with oil mixed with gold powder, my eyes heavily outlined in black kohl, and I was ready.

Laying down on a litter covered in a large square of white linen, I crossed my arms over my chest, right over left, and the attendants tucked the linen around me, encasing me as if a cocoon. Or a mummy, which is what I now resembled. I flashed the attendants what I hoped was a cocky smile that didn't match my inner turmoil at all and closed my eyes. I recall briefly wondering if I'd open them again.

The litter was lifted and borne away, the rhythmic steps of the bearers lulling me into a gentle quiet as I tried to push thoughts of failure from my mind. They brought me to a place I did not know; it wasn't until years later when I would oversee the initiation of others that I would learn of the secret room deep under the Temple where all apprentices underwent their trial to become a true servant to the Netjer.

The litter stopped and I thought we had reached our destination, but I heard someone step up beside us and speak. I recognized Hem Netjer Menmet-Ra's voice immediately.

"It is of no part of your training that you undergo an ordeal that you cannot overcome. If you wish, open your eyes and sit up. You will be taken in secret to the south to start a new life there. Your guardian will be told of your death and thus spared shame."

What? You could _back out_? I was shocked and felt almost betrayed. What coward would back out now, after having come so far? Unless, of course, Menmet-Ra was only doing this for me. I stayed still on the litter and didn't move; my eyes remained shut, determined. I ignored the minute tremor in my hands.

"Blessings on you, Seth," Menmet-Ra whispered as we began to move again. I also ignored the worry in his voice.

Our path leveled out again and the litter came to a halt. Gentle yet firm hands lifted me into the air, the scent of frankincense swirling around me as they slowly lowered me, and I knew I was in a sarcophagus and the thought chilled me more than the feel of cool stone through the linen. I heard the scrapping sound of the lid as it slid shut, impossibly loud, drowning out the sound of prayers and then the noise cut off and all was still and silent.

I laid perfectly still, frozen by the abruptness. I knew I need to calm down, to slow my breathing and heart and prepare myself but I couldn't. My breathing was short, shallow, and too fast; my heart thudded wildly in my chest, blood pounding in my ears, deafening in its strength. Horror stories came to mind unbidden; tales of apprentices who panicked, struggling to tear away the linen, screaming and clawing at the heavy stone lid, ripping their fingernails off in their frenzy, unable to free themselves as terror consumed them and they perished alone, already deeply entombed. I tasted bile in my throat despite having not consumed anything and swallowed with difficulty. Had I been permitted to make noise, for the Dead do not speak, mute and deaf and blind as we are to the world and the nature of things, I would've hummed the Hymn to Ra, anything to relax and take my mind from these terrible thoughts.

'Allow yourself a moment of fear, and no more.'

The words of my teachers returned to me. Well, I certainly had my moment of fear. I forced myself to listen to my breathing, my heart beat. Gradually, gradually, they slowed. My body relaxed. Here, far within the depths of the land, I will meet the gods, I told myself sternly. I felt as if I was sinking into myself, falling deeply within, an insignificant point in an infinite space.

Everything was Nothing. And everything was All. The entire complexity and simplicity of endlessness was here and was not here. Light and Dark, Being and Not Being, the End and the Beginning, as existing in and of each other. Suddenly Time seemed like a strange concept; I realized that Mut was not a Netjer of time, she was a Netjer of Existence, the nature of being, the Universe. And I saw that which my teachers at the temple and Akunadin had long since told me and I thought I knew, in a confused sort of fashion; but it was only then, in and out of myself, being in this strange place of Everything and Nothing, that I truly _knew._ That the First Idea, coming out of Nun, Nothing, Absolute Mystery, which is unthinkable, unknowable, knew itself by being both known and knower; this duality, witness and experience, is Nun which is consciousness itself, being completely the Universe that is conscious through all beings. The gods, all of them, are essences of principles, the nature of things, and yet are as I knew them before, a true being, a consciousness. The mortal self, befuddled and believing that the body is all there is to the self, cannot see their ka, cannot know their ba and so do not know that the two are the Divine, which is and is not a part of All. And being a part of the All, Divine! It made sense; I _knew _these things. I am! And I was ecstatic and hysterical. Sadness and joy and grief and pity and bliss alternatively racked my consciousness, and I knew this was what the priests call sober intoxication and some have called rapt and still countless others have innumerable names for it.

I do not recall anything further. I dimly remember being lifted from the sarcophagus, no longer mine because I knew the gods and was Awake, babbling incoherently, trying to express my wonder and amazement, weakly pushing away the water offered, insistent on attempting to describe what I knew, until finally Menmet-Ra appeared and placed his hand on my forehead with a soft smile and the quiet words, 'We _know_, child. We know.' And only then was I at peace, realizing that his words were true, I was indeed in the presence of those who were likewise knowledgeable and I need not try to explain.

--

I was renamed Meryab-Ra, Beloved of Ra, even though I do know answer to this name now. Indeed, I doubt any recall that name. Those who knew me from my younger days still called me Seth, and Meryab-Ra appeared only in high ceremony and the temple. The world seemed so different now, viewing it as I was through the after effects of attaining gnosis, like putting on glasses and seeing the world miraculously sharpen. I happily wrote home to Akunadin that I was officially a priest, but even as I celebrated my success a tragedy swept the land, sending people into the streets to bemoan the news. His Majesty was dead!

The news stunned me, my mind racing quickly forward, feet rooted to the spot on my way to the dining hall. Who would be crowned? Lord Akunadin, younger brother of the late Majesty? Or His Highness, still young, unspeaking? I whirled around, promise of food forgotten, ignoring the shout of the priest who brought me the news, and went to pack my things. I was going home.

"Meryab-Ra, why do you prepare as if for travel?" Menmet-Ra said from the doorway to my room.

I straightened, shutting the lid of the wooden trunk, and faced him. "I must return to Men-nefer," I said, searching his eyes for a reaction.

I barely needed to, as concern lit up his whole face. "You would leave the temple?" he asked sadly.

"I must," I stated firmly.

He took a step towards me. "You could be happy here," he said, not begging, not imploring. Just fact. "Knowing what you know. Why return to a world of trivial struggles and trials, one blind to the truth?"

A twinge of regret tugged my heart. To leave behind this place of learning and peace, in exchange for the secrecy and backstabbing and conniving life of the palace court-

"I'm sorry, Hem Netjer," I told him quietly. "I must go to His Highness."

Menmet-Ra sighed. "I understand," he said, resigned. "We shall miss your keen heart, Meryab-Ra."

I nodded, grateful he understood. As much as I would have loved to stay, my duty led me elsewhere.

--

I had arrived only an hour earlier. Once I saw my things safely delivered to my room I hastily prepared for Court, the formal robes unfamiliar after my years at Inun. I stared anxiously at the heavy wooden doors, waiting to be announced. I had changed since leaving the palace; would His Highness still have a place for me?

The doors opened and I walked in, left foot first. Across the room, His Highness sat in his throne, the larger throne of his late father empty beside him. I was strangely relived to see Akunadin standing in attendance among the Justified Majesty's high priests rather than sitting to His Highness's left. Other than that the room was deserted, ignoring the guards. I dropped to my knees before His Highness and waited. When I didn't get a response I risked a glance up.

His Highness stared back impassively, eyes like chips of ruby framed by jet black kohl like a night without stars, the Shadows roiling about him like uneasy waters, uncertain, curious, cautious. Two years had changed nothing about him; he was still the lithe tiny boy I remembered him as. Would the world never touch him? How could a boy of twelve rule the most powerful kingdom in existence? He nodded once, and then waved a dismissive hand towards the priests. They bowed, murmuring their leave as they backed away and left us alone in the echoing throne room.

His Highness beckoned me forward and I came, bowing again before stepping up onto the dais, kneeling directly before him. I felt the air chill and kept my eyes on the floor, waiting for the Shadows to make contact, determined not to flinch away.

They washed over me like an icy cascade, stealing my breath through clenched teeth, sampling emotions, riffling through my memories briefly, seeming generally uninterested in the details of my training at Inun, until reaching the recollection of my initiation.

_Puzzlement curious_

I tensed involuntarily as the Shadows, His Highness, probed deeper, trying to understand what I had experienced. I was starting to feel dizzy and numb, my body shaking slightly as they pushed further. I could throw up a barrier but the Shadows would tear through it like cheap papyrus, and resisting would probably just make things worse, but I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

_Understanding_

-and the Shadows released me. I took a deep breath, steadying myself with a hand on the floor, wondering in a detached sort of way how His Highness could possibly know what my initiation was like and deciding that I would worry about it later.

"Your Highness," I muttered, grateful it was over, sounding more exhausted by the ordeal than I would've preferred.

"Seth."

I gasped aloud, head snapping up to look at him. Had he just-?

"Why have you returned?" he asked, his voice even and soft, but undeniably powerful.

I gaped at him a moment longer before finding my tongue. "This servant-here-present has come to swear allegiance to you, You Highness," I explained, dipping my head again.

A small amused sound, a wry smile I could practically feel. Was he displeased?

"Speak, then."

I glanced at the guards, wondering if they counted as witnesses.

"The Shadows are your witness," His Highness said, bringing my attention back. "Have you need of more?"

I shook my head. Breaking a Shadow-tied oath was akin to suicide; it was more than enough.

"Your Highness, this servant-here-present swears his allegiance to you, that he might serve Your Highness in all that he is able, and see Your Highness safely through all of his days. This servant-here-present will defend Your Highness against all enemies, as Set, He Whom Before the Sky Shakes, daily strikes down the enemies of Ra, Lord of All. This is sworn, bound in Shadows with Ma'at as witness."

I felt the Shadows twine around my heart, binding myself to His Highness; I felt a sharp flash of wit and cunning and darkness, sudden and startling, before the Shadows pulled back.

"As you have said, so shall it be," His Highness intoned as the Shadows curled around him in a tender embrace, tendrils gently caressing his cheek. I bowed, touching my forehead to the floor in a full henu. "You are Imahku Meryab-Ra, Shemsu… I prefer Seth," he said off-handedly. I glanced up, unsure of his meaning.

"Rise, Seth; walk with me," he said, and I followed him out of the courtroom, feeling very much a child again as we walked the halls together, still trailing a step or two behind him. He brought me to his chambers, where he could be certain of privacy. A single disinterested wave of his hand sent the serving girl away, mumbling praise. As soon as he heard the door click shut and her footsteps fade, he sighed audibly and threw himself in a backed chair. I blinked in disbelief.

"Sit, Set," he said, indicating a slightly lower stool. I sat, wondering who I was sitting with.

He picked up the emotion easily. "Two years is time enough for things to change," he said, and I wondered if I shouldn't erect a mental barrier since His Highness seemed to use the Shadows without conscious thought.

"His Highness found his voice," I said, still not over my shock.

He scowled. "My distaste for ceremony hasn't changed," he stated, ignoring my comment completely. "When not required, it is not needed." He paused, considering. "Unless your two years has caused a rift between us."

"Never!" I exclaimed quickly, my abrupt outburst surprising me. His Highness merely arched an eyebrow, as if entertained by a joke of which only he was aware.

"How have you fared, these two years?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

A dark look passed quickly over his face and was gone. "Well enough," he said, a hint of sadness in his words. "But let us not speak of that; I have a subject of importance to discuss with you."

"Certainly, Your Highness," I answered, interested despite myself.

He fell silent, as if contemplating his next words. "I am to be the Nisut, crowned after my-" His voice broke and his eyes flicked away, searching for something to help him continue. "-after the funeral services are completed. The current court… will cause difficulties, once I ascend the throne. Therefore, a new court is required. Akunadin will remain, but others shall be replaced."

I listened in silence. I knew enough of politics to realize that replacing the entire court of priests immediately upon taking the throne could rouse suspicions and possibly create tension between the Royal House and the Temple. But at the same time, leaving a court as it was in such a situation could cause greater problems down the road. His Highness clearly wished to do away with strife as soon as possible, rather than be surprised by it later on.

I was not prepared for His Highness's next statement.

"I want you to be one of the priests of my court."

"What?"

"Will you?"

"I- Ah, certainly, Your Highness, but-"

"Good. Thank you, Seth," he said, almost visibly relieved.

"Anything, Your Highness," I said, bowing my head. "But-"

"There is a matter I must attend to," he said, standing. "Please do not speak of this until I say otherwise."

I stood and bowed. "Yes, Your Highness," I answered, giving up on asking my own question.

I returned to my room, overwhelmed by what just happened. I had not been back a day and had been plunged into politics. Menmet-Ra predicted that perfectly.

Strangely, I didn't care.

--

The Dark Prince speaks! Ahem. If that paragraph during Seth's initiation confused you, sorry, but that was the least confusing way I could do it. Gnosis is the type of knowledge you can only understand by experiencing it, thus making it immensely difficult to write about. It's supposed to break your brain.

Read and review, please


	6. Coronation

Finally, an update! My apologies for taking so long. Life snuck up on me.

---

The remaining days of His Justified Majesty's funeral preparations passed, and during that time I became reacquainted with court life. Anxiety ran high, tempers short; not only must the funeral plans be completed, but the coronation ceremony also needed to be finalized. His Highness's days were busy; he held court each day, hearing the disagreements brought before him, farmers shifting land boundaries in order to cheat a neighbor, cases of adultery, pleas for forgiveness brought on behalf of the condemned. And on top of court, he personally oversaw the funeral and coronation councils, while familiarizing himself with the finer details of his forthcoming rule—trade agreements, the state of the treasury, the status of the forty-two nomes, the condition of the military, everything. And of course, secretly selecting his new high court of priests.

Compared to his tasks, my days were not nearly as difficult. As I had been absent from court for two years, I was not expected to attend many of the councils; indeed, my presence would have been resented by some, seen as the move of an arrogant youth eager to meddle in the affairs of state. So I kept myself to the side, focusing my attentions on blending the requirements of my priesthood with the demands of the court. I was still obliged to enter personal ritual three times a day (sunrise, high noon, and sunset), regardless of court proceedings, although I would come to learn that the timing could occasionally be stretched a tad, and that the Netjer were understanding if one missed ritual for a valid reason. (Like when everything started going to hell towards the end.)

But we are not quite there yet. The coronation day. I slipped away from the last minute preparations in order to speak with His Highness, soon to be His Majesty, before everything got underway. I found him in his chambers, donning the ceremonial jewelry appropriate for the occasion: gold armbands, bracelets, anklets, a heavy collar necklace of gold and precious gemstones. I knelt quietly behind him, waiting for his acknowledgement; he silently stared at his golden reflection in the full length mirror as he raised a thin circlet of beaten gold and placed it gently on his head. Then his hands dropped to his sides and I saw reflected on his face a flash of fear, a child's eyes widened in terror as he readied himself of a task almost hopelessly beyond him. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by an aloof façade as the franticly swirling Shadows, echoing his anxiety, slowed and pulled tightly about Their prince, a pulsing writhing veil against both his emotions and others.

For a boy of twelve, it was an impressive shield. I doubted my own could match it, and knew with a certainly that, should I ever be so inclined to try, I would not be able to break through it, such was his command over the Shadows.

"Seth," he said, eyes still on his reflection.

I dipped my head in reverence. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Is there something you require?" his voice wavered faintly, and I realized he was struggling to speak evenly.

I bit my lip, an unusual display of uncertainty for me. I had wished to speak with His Highness concerning his decision to appoint me to his court, but I found I couldn't do it, not with Atem in such a state. He had enough to worry about today. The gods know, it was the first of many ordeals he would face in his reign.

"Only the assurance that Your Highness does not presently require something of this-servant-here present," I replied.

The Shadows twisted violently, a tendril whipping out and gazing my cheek—a charge shot through me, and I smothered a pained gasp. Gods, that _hurt_. The black mass of energy retreated as swiftly as it struck, coiling back about the prince.

"I thought I said that when such formality isn't needed, it's not to be shown," he said, agitated.

Oops. I touched my forehead to the stone floor in a full henu. "My apologies, Your Highness," and I meant it.

I sat up and studied Atem guardedly through my bangs. Was he even aware of what just happened? But he had to be, there wasn't anything the Shadows did that he could not feel. Had They acted on Their own, or was that strike intentional? I wasn't sure which answer I would have preferred.

His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Seth," he said, turning to face me, and there was apprehension written clearly on his face as his shield faltered. "I don't mean to sound so, cross. I'm just…" He didn't sound cross, he sounded exhausted, his youth bleeding into his words.

A fierce desire swept through me, recalling the sensations from when I first laid eyes on him—I would protect him, guard him, keep him from harm, and the gods save whomever would prevent me in this. As for those whom would attempt such harm, even the gods wouldn't save them.

"Do not apologize, Your Highness. You have been working diligently to see this day come to fruition; your anxiety is natural. I should not have done such a thing to cause you unrest," I said, imploring with my eyes if not my tone that he not be hard with himself.

"A king must always be in control of his words and actions, for even greater unrest can result from a thoughtless gesture," Atem counted, evidentially unwilling to forgive himself for his slip.

I sighed inwardly, unable to say anything that wouldn't grossly violate rules of conduct to a degree that even His Highness could not rightfully tolerate. "If there is anything you have need of, Your Highness, please do not hesitate," I said emphatically, wishing I could convey my longing to remove his unease.

He nodded distractedly. "Tell them I shall be present shortly. You have my leave."

Silently, I touched my forehead to the floor once more before standing and removing myself from Atem's chambers.

--

Ra had turned the white walls and tiled courtyard into a blinding, heat soaked hollow; I squinted, eyes watering from the glare, and perceived the horses and retainers that would precede His Highness in the parade to the temple. I made my way to the loose collection of priests who would follow directly behind His Highness, chanting blessings and praises and protection. I glanced over the group.

The division was not marked, but it was there for anyone with eyes enough to notice: Akunadin stood with the other court priests off to the side, while unfamiliar priests—including another priestess, I noted with surprise—stood off towards the other. Mahaado was close enough to both sides to serve as a common point between them. He conversing with a priest I did not recognize, a young muscular man who must have farmed for several years before entering the priesthood; this didn't make much sense considering his close resemblance to Nehuenwesir, the current priest of the Scales. I wondered; these new priests, were they Atem's choice for his court? But there were more than four of them, the number of positions left after subtracting Akunadin and myself. To mislead the old court, I realized with satisfaction. Atem was proving himself to be an intelligent leader already.

All heads swiveled towards the palace entrance as His Highness appeared, sunlight glinting off the gold decorating his small frame. A servant rushed over with an ostrich fan to keep the sun off, following His Highness down the steps to his chariot. Tradition dictated that the prince ride in a sedan chair to the temple and back, but Atem much preferred his chariot; after some disagreement, a compromise was reached: Atem would take his chariot to the temple, but once he was crowned, he would ride in the sedan chair on the return. Apparently the sedan chair was supposed to be more… refined, and I guessed that the court permitted the chariot because the shift would further highlight his ascension.

He took his place, glanced about to make certain everyone was ready, and then raised his hand in signal. Like a huge beast, the procession shifted and set out, musicians and officials leading the way.

People lined the streets cheering, lying palm fronds on the road, and rustling branches of date palms in greeting as we passed by. Atem looked straight ahead, his posture regal and calm, but I could see the Shadows nervously churning; I wondered how many of the other priests could see Them. Certainly none of the peasants could, otherwise the welcome probably wouldn't have been so ecstatic. Mostly ecstatic, I amended, noticing dark sidelong glances and hushed conversations behind upheld hands among the ranks of adults. My eyes narrowed in distaste.

The children were a different matter entirely. Running alongside the street in pace with his chariot, keeping an alert distance between both parents and procession members, they laughed and threw flowers. There was a blazing curiosity on their faces as they stared unabashed at him. I didn't need the Eye to read the questions in their hearts: is this really the Prince? Will he really be king now? Is he really a god?

We reached the white limestone temple to Wesir faster than I expected, the crowds halting suddenly at the first pylon. His Highness stepped down from his chariot and passed into the open forecourt ringed with pillars, where no ordinary mortal could trod—only priests were permitted here, and of course Atem, being a god himself. I and the other priests followed him at a respectful distance, crossing the second division between secular and divine into the first roofed hall. A forest of massive pillars supported a roof that hid all sunlight except a few tendrils that slipped in through windows cut high up in the walls near the ceiling. As Atem passed through a second doorway into the smaller, inner hall where the Netjer dwelt, the priests held back; we were not permitted to witness the actual ceremony. I wondered if perhaps I couldn't convince Atem to tell me the details later, provided that the coronation wasn't oath bound.

With His Highness gone, we had nothing on which to focus our attention, so I took this opportunity to study the new priests. Mahaado was still standing near the dividing line, the priest he spoke with earlier close at hand. I sensed a growing alliance between them. The priestess stood solidly on the new priests' side, occasionally exchanging glances across the divide with Takhausekhmet, the priestess of the Necklace. A completely shaven priest stood off to the side, silently praying before a mural of the Trinity, Wesir, Aset, and Their son, Heru. His garb marked him as a Wab priest, charged with maintaining the purity of all objects and people in the temple, and correcting situations of impurity. I had been a Wab priest as well before becoming an Imakhu; it was the first step into the priesthood.

(And before you ask, yes, I had to shave my head then too. Go on, laugh away. I'll be waiting here when you finish. Done? Thank you. Moving on.)

I heard soft footsteps and turned back towards the entrance to the inner chamber, my eyes widening at the sight.

Atem stood there, expression serene, eyes half lidded. In his hands he held the symbols of his power, the crook and fail, and the scepter of Wesir; on his head he wore the uraeus of pure gold, the guardian serpents of the king; and around his neck hung the Millennium Puzzle, glinting with bright purpose. But that was not the most awe-inspiring aspect.

The Shadows were completely noticeable, visibly clinging to him in blatant adoration. I shivered slightly, feeling the power roll off him in waves. As one, the priests and I dropped to the floor in full henu, our foreheads touching the cool stone. And for a heartbeat, I was afraid. Atem was the Shadow's prince. And now we had given Them a king.

He gestured languidly for us to rise, and I hear the word whispered in my mind, a faint echo. We stood in silence, and he walked—no, glided, past us without a word, trailing Shadows in his wake. I and Mahaado followed immediately, and our movement roused the others to motion. I shot a swift look at Akunadin as we filed out of the temple; he was staring at Atem's receding form with a look of poorly disguised alarm.

--

Atem concealed the Shadows from the people's view with ease, so there was no wild panic from the populous. Upon returning to the palace, the priests broke away from the procession and went to the throne room, lining up on either side of the main pathway leading to the raised dais; again, I couldn't help but notice the self-imposed separation. Simon appeared at the doorway and formally announced His Majesty Ma'atkare Khnum-Amun, Atemrameti, Wesretkau, Nisut-bity Menkheperra, Sekhempahtydsejerkhaw.

(And since I know that you didn't get a word of that, here's the translation: His Majesty Ma'at is the Ka of Ra, Son of Ra Joined with Amun, Righteous of Amun-Ra, Mighty of Kas, He of the Sedge and the Bee Enduring of the form is Ra, Horus of Gold Powerful of Strength, Sacred of Appearance. And now you understand why we shortened his given name 'Atemrameti' to Atem when not formally addressing him.)

And then His Majesty entered the throne room, Shadows no longer flaring noticeably about, but rather crawling over his skin, encasing him in power. Again, the priests and I prostrated ourselves on the ground as he passed by and ascended the dais. But he didn't sit.

"Please rise," he said, voice low and smooth, the first words he had spoken since being crowned. We did so, and his gaze swept over us. "My first act as king will be to form my Court of Priests," he announced.

The old court shifted uneasily, and I suddenly realized that Atem hadn't warned them at all, which was either an incredibly clever move, or a very poor one.

He called Nehuenwesir forward and the priest went, handing His Majesty the Scales with no complaint. Atem thanked him for his dedicated work as an advisor to the Justified Majesty and promised he would never turn a deaf ear to future advice. As Nehuenwesir preformed a full henu and withdrew, Atem called forward the priest who had caught Mahaado's attention—Kalim. His Majesty charged him with upholding Ma'at and Kalin swore an oath, then reverently received the Scales before being directed to stand at His Majesty's side.

A smooth transfer. As His Majesty called forward another former member of the court, it suddenly dawned on me that I would be given an Item as well. Somehow, this had not occurred to me before this point.

Takhausekhmet was succeeded by a priestess called Aishizu, a strange name that must have come from Northern Egypt; Akunadin, to his obvious relief, was sworn into the new court; the Wab priest, Shada, acquired the Key from Simon, who would remain His Majesty's vizer; and then His Majesty called Mahaado forward.

That Mahaado was to be a member of the new court did not surprise me, but I couldn't quell the flare of jealousy as the man stepped forward to accept his Item. The minute he took the Ring into his hands, a surprised look flashed across his face, before he schooled his expression back to somber neutrality. As he gave his oath, I watched him carefully. What was that? There was a curious sensation present… A surfeit of energy? But it didn't feel right…

Mahaado stood and moved to stand behind His Majesty, and abruptly I understood. It was not an excess of energy, it was a _lack_ of energy. I had never noticed Mahaado's particular energetic state simply because it had never changed, but the instant he got the Ring, his standing energy level _dropped _when it ought to have gone up. But why? Why unexpectedly cloak his energy signature? It didn't make any sense.

"Meryab-Ra, come forth," His Majesty's commanding voice snapped me out of my musings.

I stepped up, kneeling for a full henu before standing again. I dared a glance up at Atem.

His red eyes locked with mine. "Renew your oath, Seth," he said quietly, his gaze steady.

I swallowed. "Your Majesty," I began, using his new title aloud for the first time. "This servant-here-present swears his allegiance to you, that he might serve Your Majesty in all that he is able, and see Your Majesty safely through all of his days. This servant-here-present will defend Your Majesty against all enemies, as Set, He Whom Before the Sky Shakes, daily strikes down the enemies of Ra, Lord of All. This I swear, oath-bound in Shadows with Ma'at as witness," I recited my previous oath.

This time the Shadows flooded my entire being with cold purpose, claiming me for Atem and Atem alone. They retreated soon enough, and I blinked, clearing my sight of lingering dark wisps. When I focused, His Majesty was holding out the Rod for me to take.

My eyebrows shot up towards my hair. The Rod? And with it, the ability to overwhelm people's heart and bend their will to mine… My eyes flicked up to His Majesty's, who only nodded. Silently proud that I had pleased him so well, I accepted the Rod, and with it the heavy mantle of Atem's trust.

It would be several years before I would cast it down into the dust.

---

Wait, didn't I read somewhere that shadows kings are dangerous? Eh, maybe I'm just remembering wrong...


End file.
